Title:
Red Rimmed EyesAuthors: lovelessxPairing:
Harry/DracoRating: R... maybe hard R, but definitely R for
language and very undetailed sex scenes.Words:
2801Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and
situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers
including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and
Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.Warnings:
m/m sexual situations and some m/f sexual situations. Crude language.
Annnngst, and a lot of it. I pretty much gave Draco a toy and then
took it away and tore him to pieces. (Sorry Draco! I love
you!)Summary: No one dumps a Malfoy. Except Harry
Potter. No one can make Draco cry. Except Harry Potter. There's no
one that Draco loves. Except Harry Potter.

So Take a Knife
to My Heart and Stare at My Red-Rimmed Eyes

Draco felt his
heart skip two beats.

"Sorry, Potter, but what did you
just say?" There he was, green eyes and all, kneeling in front
of him in the middle of a crowded corridor like the bastard was
proposing to him.

"I said 'Draco, will you be my
boyfriend?', you deaf prat."

Draco blinked once. Then
again. When the passing students heard what Harry said for the second
time, they started forming a circle around himself and the
Gryffindor. Draco looked around into the faces of the students. It
was a mix of ages and houses, all raising their eyebrows expectantly
- like they would jump him if he didn't say yes.

Send
him to hell in a handbasket if he could ever say no anyway.

"Yes."
Now it was Harry's turn to blink. Harry looked around, noticing for
the first time his audience. Draco thought that a boy or two looked
disappointed and one girl ran off crying. Harry looked back up at him
smugly, like he'd gone and defeated Voldemort all over again. "Don't
look so smug about it, you bastard!"

Harry laughed and
stood up. He looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "Looks
like we're late for Potions."

---

By dinner
it was all over the school and even the Headmaster looked interested.
Harry Potter was dating Draco Malfoy. Draco had told his friends to
shove it, because a Malfoy does whatever the hell they want - and
currently he wanted Potter. He looked over to the Gryffindor table,
all of which was looking between Harry and himself disapprovingly. He
dared any of them to say something, do anything about it and he could
swear he saw the Weaselette's eyes fill with tears.

Draco
looked over to Harry and winked at him. Next to his new boy toy,
Granger scoffed and actually punched him in the shoulder before
getting up and stalking out of the room. Draco was pleased to see
that Harry put his needs before his friends for once. Perhaps this is
the part where he is supposed to see how the Sorting Hat almost put
his boyfriend in Slytherin.

The blonde was most surprised,
however, when the Weasel leaned over and whispered something in
Harry's ear and gave him the biggest puppy-dog eyes Draco had ever
seen. Then the daft git grabbed his boyfriend's hand
and brought tan fingers to his lips. Now the whole hall, including
all of the teachers, were watching this exchange rather than sizing
up Draco and trying to see what Harry saw in him rather than
themselves. Draco distinctly thought he could hear Ron pleading for
Harry to come back to him, that he was sorry. Draco grinned when
Harry gave the redhead a dirty look and got up from his seat. The
blonde thought he was going to leave the room, but smiled pleasantly
when the brunette came over and glared down Zabini until he moved to
a seat next to Pansy and Harry sat down next to Draco. Harry draped
his arms over his new boyfriend and looked around the table.

"Maybe
I should have let the Sorting Hat put me here." Draco snorted
and took a sip from his goblet.

"Hardly, Potter. Honestly
- you have Gryffindor written all over your dirty face. You need a
shower. Let's go." And with that they stood and walked hand in
hand to the Dungeons. Pansy turned to Blaise and cried on his
shoulder.

---

The only parts of the day that
sucked was Potions. Snape was in a dismal mood, considering the
circumstances. He was failing people left and right. He docked points
from Gryffindors for propositioning Slytherins. He docked points from
Slytherins for accepting Gryffindors. He docked points from
Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws for watching the entire affair and letting
it happen. Honestly, shouldn't people know better? Snape was a
right mopey bastard that was in desperate need of getting
laid.

Harry left Hermione and Ron's table and moved to sit
with Draco, again glaring Pansy down until she went to sit with Nott
and Zabini. When Draco questioned what the lovely occasion was, Harry
told him that Hermione wasn't speaking to him - save for yelling
about loyalty at Ron more than to Ron - and Ron was
still begging for him to go back to how things were, which Draco had
no idea how things were because Potter certainly had
kept himself away from Draco's gaydar well enough.

During
class that day Harry gave him a hand job under the table. Snape
glared at them the entire class, even though Harry certainly looked
like he was paying attention and his hand was just resting
under the table and Draco kept perfectly silent, if not a little
flushed in the face and eyes dilated. He bit a hole into his tongue
when he came in an effort to not make any sound and had to stop by
the Infirmary to get Madame Promfey to heal it for him.

His
excuse was that it was that he was that Potter had tripped him in the
hallway and when his chin connected with the floor he bit through his
tongue. There wasn't any bruises on his chin.

She didn't
believe him.

---

After two months they had
fucked all over the castle and the Weaselette seemed relieved that
Harry looked bored. Bored and tired. Draco was a known resident sex
god, but honestly - the rumors that people whispered behind books
about Harry's godly status... well, let's just say that they have No.
Idea.

And just as quickly as it had started, it stopped.
Just stopped.

Draco was pissed to no end, no one
fucking dumps a Malfoy. Harry was uncaring and aloof
when he sat through Draco's pleas at dinner. Ron looked hopeful
again, but he wasn't about to sail again with Harry anytime
soon.

Finally, Draco got down on his knees in front of Harry
in the same corridor that Harry started the whole thing in and
screamed at him.

"Well, fuck you, Potter! You just like
me better on my knees, is that fucking it? Well fuck you..."
And Harry looked down at him and walked away. Draco felt like he
would die.

---

Draco seemed to take a vow of
silence. He didn't talk, didn't eat, hardly slept - and when he did,
he only dreamed of Harry. His Harry. In the morning he felt empty. In
class he felt empty. At night he cried into his pillow, behind closed
curtains, ten locking charms, and no less than thirty silencing
spells.

And Harry was the devil.

Harry had become the
new resident slut. Five times that week Draco had caught him
on the seventh floor corridor fucking someone. Each time was a
different person. Both boy and girl. Harry Potter fucked anything
that moved. Anything except Draco. Draco had become the new
disease.

People stopped trying to speak to him after the first
week. His father worried about him when he wouldn't answer the
letters. Snape had called him into his office twice this week, and
Dumbledore four times. His grades fell as did his popularity. He
stopped properly showering his hair, not bothering to slick it back
as usual and letting it fall limply around his face. People would
think he was trying to go for the 'Snape' look.

He stopped
matching his clothes meticulously, dressing more and more like
Potter. Pansy really started to worry when he wore the same pair of
clothes and robes everyday for a week.

"Draco, please,
just get over it. It's over and done with, he's moved on." Draco
snorted and turned sullenly away from his pillow that he was busy
moping into. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"It's more
like he's trying to fuck me out of him. Get me out of his system
completely." Draco drew in a shaky breath and buried his face
into his pillow again. There was now a perfect, practically permanent
indent. He lifted his head again and looked over at his dark haired
friend. He had serious doubts about her being a true Slytherin,
considering her sickening loyalty to him - as opposed to the other
Slytherins that turned their backs on him the moment he'd said "yes".
"Just... why, Pansy? Why?"

Pansy shook her head
sadly and leaned forward to rub his back. It sickened him how much
Potter had changed him. He sat up and rubbed viciously at his eyes
until they were even more swollen and bloodshot. He sniffled and got
up. "I can get past this... Let's go out patrolling."

---

It
was like clockwork. And everything was against him.

There
was Potter, watching him with dim eyes and a thin line for a mouth
while the Weasel sucked him off in the Prefect's bathroom. Potter
came when tears welled up in Draco's eyes and he turned away to walk
out with Pansy. He would show him. He would show him.

Draco
dragged Pansy to a corridor that he knew Harry had to take to
get back to his common room with Weasley. He pushed Pansy against the
wall and kissed her hard. She immediately opened up to him, arching
so her squishy breasts pressed against his chest. He grimaced and
slid his hands down to grope the curve of her arse. He could get
through this, if only for one night, just to show Potter that he
wasn't going to kill him. That he was better than him. Only that he
wasn't and here he was fucking a girl just to get back
at Potter in Potter's game.

Potter stood at the end of the
corridor and Draco looked over to him. As soon as green met grey,
Draco climaxed and spurted his seed into Pansy's tight, quivering
hole. She was wet. Warm and wet and it grossed him out. He only
thought of Potter to get himself hard. After he pulled out, he looked
over and Potter was gone. He felt like he was going to cry
again.

The next morning Pansy all but put banners up in the
school to show that she and Draco had fucked and that she and Draco
were now an item. Little did she know.

---

Draco
tried to get away from moping in his bedroom and moved to the tower
next to the Astronomy Tower to stare at the stars like some lovesick
girl. He kept away from the Astronomy Tower only because all
of the couples currently inhabiting it for their snogfest had all
watched the one time where Harry had fucked Draco against the wall.
It would be a sin to make Draco go in there and face them. So here he
sat, looking up at the stars through patches of clouds. He thought he
could hear a familiar moan and when he looked down at the ground,
sure enough there was fucking Potter and he had his cock up
Terry Boot's arse.

Potter was determined to kill him.

It
was almost like the bastard could hear him thinking because he looked
up and just happened to look at the window he was sitting in.
He sneered down at the fucker and flipped him off before going back
inside and locking the door with three locking charms and fifteen
silencing spells before slumping to the floor with his back to the
door, tears streaking his once-porcelain skin that was now grimy and
had permanent tear marks and swelled, red-rimmed eyes.

He
wanted to scream at Potter, he wanted to punch him. The worst of it
was that every time he caught the Gryffindor, he didn't seem
to be enjoying himself either and it only killed him more that his
eyes would still flash when their eyes met across the hall and his
heart would still skip a beat when Harry would only look
at him.

He was slowly dying. On the inside, at
least.

---

Draco remembers the day Harry asked
him The Question. His eyes were the brightest green he had ever seen
them. It wasn't like he wasn't already in love, he just had strange
ways to show it.

A punch in the stomach says "I fancy
you."

A rather nasty nickname says "I really do
care."

A ruined potion says "I love you."

Draco
remembers the day it ended.

"Harry that is the ugliest
shirt you own. Why are you wearing it?" Draco looked Harry up
and down. The grey trousers Harry had on were fine, though really
Draco preferred the Gryffindor naked, but the shirt... honestly
doesn't the boy own a mirror? It was puke green with the brightest
purple stripes. It made Draco want to gag. Harry looked down
at his shirt and raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with
it? It fits and it's a shirt." Draco shook his head. His poor
Harry had no fashion sense.

"What's wrong
with it? Harry Potter, that... thing doesn't classify as a
shirt. Go put on one of mine." Harry warmed to the idea of the
removal of clothing and began stripping Draco instead.

"I
rather like this idea better." Draco was fine with that and
lifted the shirt over Harry's head. He took a mental note to later
cast an incendio on the sad excuse of a garment. He kissed his way
down Harry's chest and took his cock into his mouth. Just the sound
that Harry made from the contact made Draco's mouth water and his
eyes flutter. There was no where he'd rather be than here with Harry
lifting his legs over his shoulders and pushing gently into him.
Draco cried Harry's name when he came and Harry cried Draco's name.
They were perfect for each other, bickering and all. They were laying
together and soaking in the afterglow of post-coital bliss when
Something Happened.

"Harry... I.. I love you." Draco
was afraid to look up, especially when he didn't get an immediate
reply or reaction. Harry was stiff. Tentatively, Draco looked up to
see a stone faced Harry Potter. Harry wouldn't talk to him and they'd
stopped having sex. No, people that are in love have sex. People that
don't speak fuck. People that don't care fuck. After that,
Harry told Draco they were over. Draco was enraged. He vented about
being a Malfoy and no one dumps a Malfoy. He became desperate
to have Harry back and begged him in a similar fashion to
Weasley.

It was over.

---End---

A/N:
I know I left it really sad and angsty... but we had to put my cat to
sleep today and I'm really depressed so bear with me here... I
haven't done a one-shot in a while due to writing Queer, Otherwise...
plus I've never done anything really this angsty...Or anything that
isn't NC-17. I'd really appreciate some feedback on this, Critique
welcome.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.